Home
by SpookyClaire
Summary: An elderly Blaine reflects on the life he and Kurt had together as he moves out of their home. Warning: Character death. Blangst.


**Home**

An elderly Blaine reflects on the life he and Kurt had together as he moves out of their home. Warning: Character death.

00

Blaine stood, just looking around the room. The barren, empty room. The room with the rugs ripped out, furniture removed, photos taken down. The room where he spent so many mornings sipping coffee on the couch next to his husband. The room where every Christmas they'd set up their tree and had the whole family gather for a big feast. The room where he and his husband found out their adoption had gone through. The room where his daughter would sleep on Blaine's lap when she was sick. The room where Blaine slept after a fight with his husband. The room where he found out when his children had been accepted into college. The room where he held his crying husband as their last child moved out. The room where his son had told him he had proposed to his girlfriend. The room where his daughter told him he'd be a grandpa. The room where they'd all gather every Friday night, all three generations, for dinner. The room where he taught his grandchildren to play the piano.

The room where he'd collapsed onto the couch and sobbed for days when his husband died.

Blaine glanced around at the blue walls, staring at the faded spot on the wall where his and Kurt's wedding photo had sat for 54 years. They had spent their whole lives here. It was the first house they'd bought after they got married. They had built an extension when they'd adopted their children, but it was still the same home he'd lived his whole life with Kurt.

His Kurt.

His husband.

His _late_ husband.

Blaine slowly forced his legs to move and made his way down the narrow hallway. He glanced down the basement stairs, down to where his grandkids had built a haunted house a few years ago. He glanced past the bedroom his daughters had shared when they were little, now long since emptied. He glanced to his son's room, which Kurt had turned into a sewing room when he'd left for college.

His step faltered as he passed the bathroom. The same bathroom where Kurt had slipped and fallen earlier this year. The fall that had caused him to have to go to the hospital to fix his hip. The hospital where he caught pneumonia. The hospital where he died.

A quite sob ripped out of Blaine's throat.

He kept walking until he stopped in front of a closed door. With a shaking hand he reached down and grasped the doorknob, pushing the door open. He took a step forward and stopped, staring into the empty room.

It had been his and Kurt's bedroom.

They'd spent so much time in here, fooling around, cuddling, talking. Things he'd never get to do again.

He remembered their first night when they moved into the house. They'd been 22, fresh out of college, Blaine a struggling musician and Kurt a fashion designer for a local business.

He remembered they didn't even have the bed assembled yet that first night, Burt was going to come over the next day and help them set it up. There was merely a mattress on the floor. Kurt had claimed "We're not animals, Blaine. We're not sleeping on the floor." Blaine had laughed brightly and pulled Kurt onto the mattress with him. He still remembers the squawking laugh Kurt let out as he fell on top of Blaine. But they didn't have sex that night. They just sat there, cuddling, arms wrapped tight around each other. Holding on like they _didn't _have the rest of their lives to spend together.

"_This is _our home,_ Blaine."_ Kurt had whispered, _"We have a home together."_

Blaine had merely pulled Kurt a little closer and whispered, _"As long as we're together I'm always home."_

Another quiet sob ripped through Blaine's chest as he looked to the floor where the mattress had lain. Where they had cuddled, chatted, giggled, until they fell asleep in their home for the first time.

They had lived in this home for 55 years. Blaine had slept in this room for 55 years. The room still smelt faintly of Kurt's cologne. Blaine looked across the room to where Kurt's vanity had sat for 55 years. There was still a scuff on the wooden floor from the many times Kurt had moved his chair back and forth in front of it. His 16 year old granddaughter had sat there for an hour yesterday trying to fix the scuff, but to no avail.

Blaine was glad it was still there. It was the only physical proof left that this had been his home for 55 years.

_As long as we're together I'm always home._

"I've lost my home, Kurt." Blaine whispered to the empty room, "I've lost you."

"Dad?" Blaine turned to see his eldest daughter standing in the doorway, looking sad as she took in the tears on her father's face. "Are you ready to go?"

"I'll be right there." Blaine whispered, she gave him a teary smile and nodded before backing out of the room. Blaine turned back to the room one last time. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but he had no words. He slowly turned and walked out of the room. He made his way slowly down the hall, through the living room. He walked past the kitchen where he'd spent so many holidays getting yelled at by Kurt and Rachel for sneaking a taste of their cooking. The kitchen where they gathered every morning to have breakfast together no matter what they needed to do that day.

He forced himself out to the porch, he didn't want to think about all the memories he was leaving behind. But even as he walked to the porch he was bombarded with memories. Memories of sitting on the porch swing on cool Fall nights with Kurt. Memories of taking their Christmas card photo in the same spot every year. Memories of waiting for the kids on the porch as they got off the bus every day after school.

Blaine shook his head and walked slowly down the steps and to his daughter's van. He ignored the moving truck parked behind it. He couldn't think about how all his possessions, his life was packed away in the back of that truck.

He turned slowly, looking back at the house where he'd spent his whole life. This house that had been his home for so long.

"Let's just go." Blaine found himself whispering to his children who all stood behind him. He walked to the van and climbed inside. As they drove away he forced himself not to look back at the house. Because it wasn't his home, not anymore. He'd already lost his home.

_As long as we're together I'm always home._


End file.
